Ernest E. Evans' Charge at Leyte Gulf That Saved Lives

Jan 07 , 2026

Ernest E. Evans' Charge at Leyte Gulf That Saved Lives

Ernest E. Evans stood alone in the dark Pacific night, his destroyer escort catching fire like bait in a shark’s mouth. The enemy closed in—two battleships, four cruisers, and six destroyers, symbols of overwhelming death. Without a retreat or reinforcements, he gave one order: fight till the last bullet, blind the wolves with fire and steel.


The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. Off Samar, Leyte Gulf. The seas churned beneath the guns of the Imperial Japanese Navy, the mightiest armada in decades. USS Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413) was no match for the hulking Yamato and her sisters. Yet, Captain Evans, commanding a destroyer escort, charged headlong into hell.

He ripped through torpedo runs, dodging shellfire, pushing his ship beyond design limits. The captain’s orders transformed men into legends. “Give them everything you’ve got…” he barked, knowing some wouldn’t make it. In this desperate gamble, Evans turned the tide. His furious fighting bought time for carriers and their aircraft—not by brute force, but by unbreakable will.


Background & Faith

Born 1908 in Pawnee City, Nebraska. Raised in a Midwestern world stitched by hard work and duty. Evans joined the Navy in 1930, crafting a warrior’s soul in quiet confidence. A man of faith, grounded by scripture and prayer, he embodied humility, grit, and grace under fire.

He carried the armor of belief into the chaos. Ephesians 6:13—“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day,” was a whispered vow amid salvos. His leadership wasn’t loud bravado; it was steadfast example. A captain who prayed for strength and gave it in spades.


The Battle: Scrap for Survival

The enemy fleet was no myth, no far-off nightmare. 150,000 tons of steel and fury barreled down on Evans’s tiny destroyer escort. The Samuel B. Roberts was designed to protect convoys—not trade broadsides with the Empire’s largest warships.

Evans refused to fold. His ship charged, firing 5-inch guns and torpedoes directly at the enemy’s flagship. The Yamato took his torpedo hit like a gut punch. This was a David versus Goliath brawl — except David’s sling was defiance, grit, and leadership welded together in the furnace of war.

Two torpedo hits from Roberts forced the Yamato to change course. Evans kept maneuvering through a storm of shells, each close call a dance with death. His crew suffered wounds, fires, and hull breaches, but he held steady.

Minutes turned to eternity. The destroyer escort’s damage was critical; her captain severely wounded, but still alive. His final order: to keep fighting until he fell. Evans went down with his ship, a man who chose sacrifice over surrender.


Recognition: Medal of Honor and Unyielding Praise

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, Evans’s citation reads like scripture for warriors:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty... Captain Evans, by his superb leadership, daring tactics, and heroic fighting spirit, turned back a superior Japanese force... preserving countless lives and ships.”¹

Admiral Chester W. Nimitz said it succinctly:

“On that day, Captain Evans and his crew held the line against overwhelming odds and saved the day.”²

Evans’s legacy forged a beacon for future generations. A warrior who didn’t just fight for victory—but for the men beside him.


Legacy & Lessons

Ernest E. Evans stands carved in the granite of sacrifice. His fight was not just a battle of ships but a war for honor, for faith, and for redemption. His courage reminds us: The measure of a man is not the size of his weapon, but the size of his heart amidst despair.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13. Evans lived and died by these words. He answered the highest call of leadership where few dared step.

His story is a lantern in the shadowed corridors of war—proof that even the smallest vessel, captained by a steadfast soul, can turn back a tide of darkness. Veterans carry these scars like battle hymns. Civilians glimpse in them the price of freedom.

Let his sacrifice ignite a fire in all who face the impossible. Stand tall. Fight hard. Lead with honor. And when the smoke clears, may we remember that some battles are won with blood and unyielding faith.


¹ Naval History and Heritage Command, Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans ² Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, Official Navy Reports


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